


Mutual Benefit

by Rocky_T



Series: Tightrope [1]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Pre-Episode: s01e01 Caretaker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:20:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24803017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rocky_T/pseuds/Rocky_T
Summary: Following his capture as a Maquis, Tom Paris is serving his time at the New Zealand correctional facility when someone makes him an offer he can't refuse. Or can he? AU.
Relationships: Kathryn Janeway & Tom Paris, Kathryn Janeway/Owen Paris
Series: Tightrope [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1797067
Comments: 16
Kudos: 31





	Mutual Benefit

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a one-off but quickly began to develop into something bigger. Many thanks to Seema for her excellent beta, and for playing along with me in the sandbox.

Tom Paris was almost done wiping down the tables in the commissary after the noon lunch rush. It was his regular assignment in the New Zealand security facility, and he did his work mechanically, not really paying attention to the conversation around him as other “guests” finished their meals and dumped their trays in the allotted area.

“Hey, Paris,” called one of the guards. “You’ve got a visitor.”

“Nah, you’re just fucking with me and I’m not falling for it. There’s no one who’d take the time or trouble to come out here just to see me,” Tom replied. He tossed the sponge into the bucket and picked up his bottle of cleaning spray.

“It’s no joke. You have a visitor,” the guard said. “Waiting for you outside on the grounds.”

“Is that so?” Tom said, his voice trembling slightly. He concentrated on the spray bottle in his hand. “Male or female?”

“Female.”

Tom considered for a moment, and then squirted another spurt of cleaning fluid on the table top. He didn’t look up as he wiped the table. “Is she pretty?”

“Yes,” the guard said, and Tom’s interest piqued. Perhaps it was a former girlfriend. And then the guard spoiled the moment by adding, “Says she’s a family member.”

Tom was very still for a moment. Had his mother actually come to see him? He immediately rejected the idea. Although divorced for years, his parents were very much on the same page regarding his capture and conviction as a member of the Maquis; both considered him a disgrace, not just based on this incident alone, but rather a whole list of wrongdoings that had torpedoed his Starfleet career. It must be one of his sisters, though he couldn’t imagine why Kathleen or Moira would want to visit. Each of them was married, involved with their own lives; the gap in age between him and his sisters had meant they weren’t close as they really hadn’t grown up together.

“Well, can’t keep her waiting, whoever she is,” Tom drawled, hoping his easy tone belied the anxiety he felt, and left the commissary.

He took the ‘lift up to the main floor and wandered out through the back door, which opened onto a small conservatory. The penal system of the 24th century was much more enlightened compared to how criminal justice was meted out in the past, with an emphasis on relatively comfortable if not pleasant accommodations. The inmates didn’t live in luxury – they were still serving time for their crimes after all – but the emphasis was on rehabilitation, not punishment. His freedom was limited – he couldn’t leave the facility, and his location was tracked by a chip embedded in his shoulder – but he was not confined to a dank cell. Instead, he could walk around outside in a lush garden filled with trees and flowers.

Ahead of him on the path, he saw a woman standing with her back to him as she gazed into the fish pond. He couldn’t tell much about her other than the fact she wore a Starfleet uniform. Not one of his sisters, then. He smiled as he approached. “Excuse me, I heard you were looking for Tom Paris?” he said in his best flirty tone. At the sound of his voice, she turned around to face him.

“Oh, shit,” Tom said, his outstretched hand dropping to his side.

“Nice to see you, too, Tom,” Captain Kathryn Janeway said. “How have you been?”

“What are you doing here?” Tom said. He folded his arms protectively over his chest.

“Do I need a particular reason to visit my stepson?” Janeway asked.

Tom felt his hackles rising. “Just because you’re married to my father doesn’t make us family, Kathryn,” he said, refusing to address her by her rank. “Does he know you’re here, by the way? Or are you by chance here on his behalf?”

Janeway exhaled. “I hoped you could have moved beyond your hostility toward me by now,” she said. “I know you were upset when your parents’ marriage ended, but as I told you at the time, I had nothing to do with that.”

“Sure you didn’t,” Tom said, contempt rising in his voice. “You just happened to be my father’s favorite student, his prize protégée, and you served under him for many years. You spent a lot of time with him, on duty, off duty, even back on Earth. It was pretty obvious what was going on. Despite Starfleet regulations, you were involved romantically with your commanding officer.”

“That’s not an official Starfleet position, more like a ‘recommendation.’ At any rate, I was _not_ involved with your father while we were serving together,” Janeway said, a note of steel in her voice. “Our paths intersected again well after your father had already separated from your mother.”

Tom met her words with stony silence.

“But that’s all water under the bridge at this point,” Janeway went on. “That’s not what I’m here to talk to you about.”

“So why don’t you just get on with it?” Tom said. “Deliver whatever message he told you to give me and then you can be on your merry way.”

“I’m not here at your father’s behest,” Janeway said. “In fact, he doesn’t even know I’m here.”

Tom raised an eyebrow. “Sneaking around behind his back? I’m sure the Admiral won’t take kindly to _that_ kind of behavior.”

“Stop acting like a child,” Janeway snapped. Then, as if regretting her brief burst of temper, a conciliatory note crept into her voice. “I’m here to make you an offer.”

“An offer?” Tom said, surprised. He’d learned the hard way that offers never came without strings attached, and he wondered exactly what Kathryn Janeway was up to. If there was one thing he knew about his father’s wife, it was that she never operated without ulterior motives. He narrowed his eyes as he contemplated her words. “Well, that’s interesting. What do I have that you could possibly want, especially given my present circumstances?” He gestured at the buildings of the facility around them.

“Let’s take a walk,” Janeway said, and without waiting she set off down the path through the trees.

Against his better judgment, Tom followed. “I’m listening.”

“I don’t know if you’ve heard,” Janeway said conversationally, “But I was recently given command of a new ship, _Voyager_. It’s _Intrepid_ -class and--”

“Congratulations,” Tom cut in. “But what does that have to do with me?”

“As I was saying before you interrupted, _Voyager_ is a new vessel with state of the art propulsion and maneuverability. It’s the most advanced ship in the ‘Fleet.”

“And they gave this marvel of a ship to you? That’s a really neat benefit to sleeping with one of the top Admirals, I suppose,” Tom drawled.

Janeway stiffened but had obviously decided to ignore his barbs. “My mission is to track down and capture one of the top Maquis cells currently active.” She glanced at him sideways.

“Chakotay’s cell,” Tom said instantly. “Well, good luck with that. I’m not divulging any Maquis secrets by telling you they’re holed up in the Badlands.” He couldn’t help the tiny note of pride that slipped into his voice. “The Maquis can out-maneuver anyone, Starfleet or the Cardassians, in there. You’ll never find them.”

A small smile played around Janeway’s mouth as if she’d been expecting him to say exactly that. “Actually, as I was trying to tell you, _Voyager_ will have no trouble doing exactly that.”

“You’re telling me your ship will be able to navigate freely among the plasma streams and eddies in the Badlands?” Tom said incredulously. “That your sensors will be able to operate well enough to get a fix on his ship without his being right on top of you?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” Janeway replied.

Her arrogance – or confidence - was breath-taking. Tom shook his head as he stopped walking and turned to face her. “What does any of that have to do with me?”

“I believe in being as well prepared as possible,” Janeway said. “The more knowledge I have about Chakotay’s cell and possible location, the greater my chances at success.”

“So you want to pick my brains?” Tom laughed bitterly. “I was with Chakotay’s cell a grand total of 3 weeks. I was captured by a Starfleet patrol on my first solo mission. In rapid succession, I was arrested, put on trial, and incarcerated here eight months ago.” He paused. “But even if I _did_ know anything of value, what makes you think I’d be willing to help you?”

“I’m not just here to pick your brains, Tom,” Janeway said. She took a deep breath. “I want you to come with me to the Badlands. Help me track Chakotay down, direct me to the areas where he’s most likely to be found. In return, I’ll speak to the Starfleet Parole Board on your behalf.”

Tom was staggered. Now this was an offer he had not expected. “You want me to come with you?”

“Yes. Right now, in fact.”

“And the prison authorities are fine with that, with my just waltzing out of here with you?” He couldn’t believe his ears. Kathryn Janeway was even more like his father than he’d thought – right down to making promises she likely couldn’t keep.

“Why not?” Janeway said coolly. “I gave them my word that I would bring you back.”

“What’s to prevent me from just skipping out on you the first chance I get?” Tom said, meeting her eyes challengingly.

“Because I don’t think you’re such a fool to throw away a golden opportunity like this,” Janeway shot back. “Think of it, Tom – in exchange for services rendered, you can have your sentence commuted and walk away a free man afterward.”

“You said you’d speak on my behalf, not that my sentence would be commuted,” Tom pointed out. “You’ll have to go a lot further and guarantee that I’d be set free.”

“I’ll do my best,” Janeway said so earnestly that he almost believed her. “You have my word on it.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Tom shrugged. “You must really be desperate.” Another thought struck him. “While we’re on board your ship, what’s my status? Am I still a prisoner under lock and key? Or do I have free rein to come and go as I please?”

“You’ll be on board as an observer,” Janeway said. “You won’t be a prisoner.” She answered his unspoken question. “You can wear the uniform, if you want.”

“What makes you think I _want_ …” Tom fell silent, unwilling to admit just how attractive the idea of wearing the uniform again was. He considered his possibilities. On the one hand, he’d get to leave the facility, and if he played his cards right, he would never come back. He could walk out of here a free man… Out loud, he said, “What’s the catch?”

“There is no catch.”

“Do you honestly expect me to believe that?” Tom asked. “You’re just doing this out of the kindness of your heart?”

“Let me be blunt, Tom,” she said, not taking her eyes from his. “You were a good young officer who showed a lot of promise. You screwed up at Caldik Prime – but it didn’t have to mean the end of your career.”

“According to my father, it did,” Tom said bitterly. 

Janeway shook her head. “I told your father at the time that he was being too harsh with you. What you did was wrong, a grievous error in judgment, but it wasn’t insurmountable. Plenty of young officers make mistakes, but they can overcome them if given another chance.”

“That’s not how Owen Paris rolls. Come on, Kathryn, you’re married to the man. Don’t tell me you haven’t learned that about him yet.”

“My relationship with your father is _not_ under discussion,” Janeway said firmly. “I’m here to give you a chance to rehabilitate yourself, wipe the slate clean.”

“You’re taking on quite a task. Are you sure you’re up for it?” Tom looked at her pointedly, unable to quite keep the sneer out of his voice. “I compounded my original sin at Caldik Prime with joining the Maquis afterward. I know my father thinks highly of your abilities, but this time you might be biting off more than you can chew.”

“Helping to capture one of the most notorious Maquis leaders will go a long way toward your redemption,” she retorted, and then her expression softened. “Come on, Tom, how long do you want to wallow in your misery and bemoan your ruined life, your lost opportunities? What I’m offering you can benefit us both. Do you want to create a new future for yourself or would you rather sit here bemoaning the past?”

Despite himself, her words hit a resounding chord deep within. A chance to make up for his past, and an opportunity to be on board a state of the art Starfleet vessel once more… “What are the mission parameters?”

“It’s a planned three-week mission in the Badlands,” Janeway said. “We’re slated to launch from Deep Space Nine in ten days.”

He nodded slowly. Deep Space Nine wasn’t too far away from the Badlands. “It’ll take time for you to make your proposal to the Parole Board, and then they’ll have to deliberate before reaching a decision. I don’t know if I would make your launch window.”

“As I indicated before, I’ve already spoken to the board, and they’ve agreed.”

Tom blinked in surprise. “They have? I mean, I can just walk out of here with you right now?”

“Yes, Tom. It’s solely up to you now.” Janeway laid her hand on his arm. “What do you say?”

He exhaled sharply. What was there really to think about? Worse case scenario, he’d be free of the penal colony for at least the next five weeks. “Yes. I accept.”

She smiled. “I’m glad. I think it will work out well for both of us.”


End file.
